Ke Ni ended the match burning with rage, feeling a narrow escape once again.
Being able to stay away from those outstanding players, plus having just landed a punch on Jing Sicun, Ke Ni was in a relatively good mood as she hurried out of the building where the recording was taking place.
The dusk was thickening, and the city lights were just beginning to glow.
Ke Ni ran to the parking lot near the production team’s filming base.
Her father’s white car was parked inside, its hazard lights blinking.
Ke Ni dashed over and opened the door.
“Dad.”
Her father smiled kindly.
“Aunt Sun knew you had a competition today, so she went out early to buy fresh meat and lily bulbs to stew some Anhe Soup. She specially asked me to pick you up to eat dinner at home.”
Ke Ni buckled her seatbelt.
“Aunt Sun is so sweet, love her, love her.”
“Drink a couple more bowls when we get home, don’t let Aunt Sun’s kindness go to waste.”
“Don’t worry about it being enough—I’m about to starve!”
Her father started the car.
“We’re heading home now. Where are Lin Xirun and Feng Zi’an? Didn’t see them around.”
Ke Ni pressed her lips together.
“The top ten have post-match interviews. Lin Xirun is probably waiting for Feng Zi’an.”
The atmosphere inside the car shifted slightly.
Scientists say that at minus 210 degrees Celsius, the main components of air liquefy and freeze.
Nature won’t show this before the end of the world.
But Ke Ni genuinely felt the air inside the car freeze for a moment.
Her father didn’t say another word.
Ke Ni asked, “Dad, how is the elderly person at Aunt Sun’s house recovering?”
Her father replied, “Pretty well.”
Ke Ni forced a smile. “That’s really good!”
Her father asked, “What event did you compete in today? Neither you nor Lin Xirun made the top ten?”
Ke Ni joked, “I actually signed a confidentiality agreement with the production team.”
She tried to ease the mood with her father, but once he knew the competition was a math-related event, he showed an unmistakable trace of disappointment.
Even after dinner, her father didn’t genuinely lighten up.
Neither did Ke Ni.
Before she left, her father mentioned that he had contacted Professor Wang and arranged for them to attend a few extra classes in the coming days.
Ke Ni could only answer, “Got it.”
Making the whole family wait so late for dinner was already embarrassing enough, so she declined Aunt Sun’s offer to have her father drive her home.
Ke Ni put on her shoes.
“Ride-hailing is very convenient. I’m not a kid anymore; I can go back on my own.”
Indeed, it was very convenient.
The driver took her directly into the old residential district and dropped Ke Ni off at the foot of the rented apartment building.
Ke Ni hesitated for two or three seconds before turning and walking toward the small side door of the building.
It was a shortcut leading to the grocery store.
At eleven at night, the grocery store was dimly lit.
Jing Sicun sat at the entrance with his cats and dogs, holding a chess piece, playing chess against himself.
Jing Sicun placed a black piece on the right side of the board, then looked up at her.
Ke Ni cleared her throat.
“Do you like playing chess by yourself that much?”
“No, I don’t.”
Jing Sicun poured the piece from his palm back into the wooden box.
“I’m waiting for someone to settle a score with me.”
Settle a score?
Having overheard Lin Xirun and Feng Zi’an’s conversation in the lounge and then Jing Sicun’s provocation, Ke Ni was indeed furious.
At that moment, she thought Jing Sicun was trying to undermine her self-esteem, revealing his true colors as a scoundrel trying to kick her out of the competition early.
After leaving the filming site in her father’s car and escaping the sensitive and unpleasant environment, Ke Ni calmed down and began to understand Jing Sicun’s meaning.
Jing Sicun was a smart person.
Would he be afraid of her causing a threat?
More likely, he deliberately provoked her because he sensed her negative mood.
The narrow alley was filled with the rustling whispers of night insects, and a few cats simultaneously looked up at Ke Ni.
Jing Sicun’s gaze was fixed on her as well.
A strange feeling welled up in Ke Ni’s heart.
Aunt Sun’s Anhe Soup was incredibly delicious, the meat tender and flavorful.
But paired with Aunt Sun and her father’s hopes and reminders about the recording, it somehow lost some of its flavor.
There was a taste of pressure lingering.
She didn’t feel warmth during dinner, but when Jing Sicun smiled at her, Ke Ni seemed to sense something…
Ke Ni kept a stiff expression and ignored Jing Sicun.
She went inside the grocery store and grabbed two cans of beer, scanned to pay, then returned to the store entrance carrying the beers.
Ke Ni sat down on the chair opposite Jing Sicun, leaning against Tuesday, the three cats resting on her.
Tuesday lifted its head.
It glanced at Ke Ni, then wagged its tail, resting its chin back on its paws.
Ke Ni handed a can of beer to Jing Sicun. “Here, for you.”
Jing Sicun smiled. “Using my family’s beer to treat me?”
Ke Ni’s chest puffed up in irritation.
“I already paid with the scan just now. This is my beer now. It’s named Ke.”
Jing Sicun let out a lazy, smiling “Ah.”
Ke Ni pouted. “If you’re not drinking it, give it back!”
Jing Sicun popped open the beer and handed it to Ke Ni.
Then he grabbed the can next to her, popped it open, and took a sip himself.
Ke Ni glanced at Jing Sicun, then at the hissing, bubbling beer in front of her.
She picked up her beer and took a sip too.
For a few minutes, neither of them spoke.
They silently looked at each other.
Silently drank their beer.
Silently watched Tuesday stand up and look toward the calico kitten that Tuesday had just shaken off.
The small calico kitten sat on the steps, looking confused, and Tuesday came over.
Jing Sicun said, “This is Tuesday, a mix between a Border Collie and a Labrador Retriever.”
Tuesday was already unable to contain its excitement, enthusiastically circling around Ke Ni.
It wagged its tail and licked Ke Ni’s arm.
Jing Sicun gently scolded, “Tuesday.”
The furry touch on Ke Ni’s arm brought a long-missed warmth.
Ke Ni recalled a tender memory from the past.
“My family used to have a Labrador too. It’s okay, they… liked licking me like this back then.”
Jing Sicun said, “I know.”
Ke Ni didn’t dwell on that sentence but remembered telling him about it once.
She always liked to tease him: “You know everything, don’t you? You’re amazing, you know everything.”
Jing Sicun chuckled.
“Sarcastic, huh?”
Ke Ni looked straight into Jing Sicun’s eyes.
“Before the match, you said you knew my secret to mess with me…”
Jing Sicun calmly said, “Not entirely, just guessed a little.”
Ke Ni’s secret could never be told to her parents, nor to psychologists or friends.
Even less so to Jing Sicun.
He never intended to ask either.
He just quietly stayed by her side.
Empty mini beer cans lined up to the third.
Ke Ni’s mind kept wandering back to the past.
The matchstick problem;
her bluffing;
and the visit she went on with her parents to a special needs school.
That was when Ke Ni had just entered middle school.
The school organized a social practice activity where students and parents visited a school for disabled children.
The main focus was Autism Spectrum Disorder.
Ke Ni and her parents met a seven-year-old girl with high-functioning autism.
Inside the classroom.
Because of her illness, the girl seemed “wild and uncontrollable,” like a gust of untethered wind.
A young female teacher chased after her for half a corridor before finally catching the girl, who was mumbling words no one understood.
The teacher smiled apologetically at the visiting students and parents, then mentioned the girl’s extraordinary talent—
If you randomly said a Gregorian calendar date, the girl could quickly give the corresponding lunar calendar date.
Ke Ni’s father tried several times.
No matter the year—past or future, near or distant—as long as he said the Gregorian date, the girl answered the lunar date accurately.
No calculations.
No notes.
Ke Ni couldn’t look up answers on her phone fast enough to match the girl’s instant replies.
Her father was amazed.
“How does she calculate that?”
The girl looked at the sky, murmuring seemingly nonsense words, oblivious to others.
The young female teacher smiled.
“We don’t know either. No one ever taught her, she just knows.”
Ke Ni heard her father say, “She’s basically a genius.”
Ke Ni put down her beer can and muttered quietly, as if to herself, “I wish I were a high-functioning autistic person. I also wish I were you.”
That sentence sounded very calm but was tangled with years of Ke Ni’s sleepless nights and anxiety.
Jing Sicun didn’t know the full context, only hearing a random complaint from Ke Ni.
He tapped the chessboard twice with his fingertips.
“Ke Ni, you seem to be very hard on yourself.”
Ke Ni frowned.
“That’s not fair to you.”
Ke Ni looked up.
“Don’t play the good guy. Haven’t you thought my level isn’t enough to compete with you?”
Jing Sicun smiled.
“I have. It’s not just you; other players aren’t good enough either.”
Ke Ni wanted to shove her beer can into Jing Sicun’s mouth.
Jing Sicun seemed to know what she was thinking and reminded her, “There’s surveillance at the entrance; murder is illegal.”
Ke Ni snapped, “I know!”
Jing Sicun still smiled.
“I treat all players equally except myself. You, ranked higher than Song Yi, always seem to think you’re inferior.”
Ke Ni was stunned.
She instinctively retorted, “I just understand myself. You’re geniuses with talent. I’m different—I got here through years of training and study.”
Jing Sicun’s expression turned serious.
“Being able to learn is also a kind of strength, right?”
What does that mean?
Ke Ni’s eyelashes started trembling.
Jing Sicun continued, “Being able to persist in learning is a kind of talent. I can’t absorb knowledge I’m not interested in; you’re quite impressive.”
Ke Ni looked at Jing Sicun in disbelief.
She murmured, “What are you talking about…”
No one had ever said these things to Ke Ni or even tried.
It was like the feeling she got when someone told her, “You’re comparing your elementary school self to a university senior.”
Along with surprise, shock, and emotion…
There was also a helplessness that left Ke Ni at a loss.
She wanted to argue but couldn’t find a point to refute Jing Sicun’s words.
“Jing Sicun, why are you telling me this?”
Jing Sicun said, “I’m reflecting.”
Ke Ni was suspicious.
“Reflecting on what?”
Jing Sicun said that the matchstick problem Ke Ni asked about was something he had encountered in elementary school.
It was a popular type of problem back then.
He had even helped friends design Olympiad math courses and was very familiar with these problems.
Ke Ni stared blankly at Jing Sicun.
Jing Sicun said, “That’s why I was able to solve that problem instantly. I don’t know what it really means to you, but if my speed ever troubled you, I’m sorry.”
At that moment, Ke Ni nervously stood up.
She didn’t want to face this topic.
Or rather, she didn’t want to continue exposing her vulnerability in front of him.
Many questions she had never understood twisted into a mess in her heart when confronted by her pounding heart near Jing Sicun.
Avoiding the topic, Ke Ni went to get two more cans of beer.
She was a bit drunk.
When scanning to pay, she accidentally dropped the payment code and had to crouch inside the cashier’s counter to pick it up.
The space inside the counter was very cramped, piled high with old books and magazines.
Ke Ni squatted down and picked up the payment code, then looked up and accidentally noticed a small patch of wall next to a drink poster and underneath a newspaper clipping of Jing Sicun as a child on TV—a small, whiter section of wall.
The wall was old and mottled.
She had never noticed this little spot before.
Now that she saw it, she also noticed residue from adhesive tape in that square area and thought she might have knocked off some photo.
Ke Ni squatted down again to search.
Jing Sicun entered and just happened to see Ke Ni curled up inside the cashier’s counter.
Her chin rested on her knees, head bowed.
The dim light cast shadows, and Ke Ni didn’t find anything.
She stood up and bumped into Jing Sicun, who was leaning in to look.
A low-hanging pendant light hung over the counter.
Jing Sicun’s hand was on the counter beside her.
When Ke Ni suddenly stood, he leaned back slightly to avoid her and reached out to brush her forehead.
Ke Ni steadied herself, very close to Jing Sicun.
Her gaze fell on the furrow between his brows as she heard him say, “I thought you were crying again.”
Tuesday wagged its tail and squeezed in.
The space inside the cashier’s counter was so tight it made hearts race.
The itch of tooth roots gnawed by mice and insects—though knowing Jing Sicun meant well—made Ke Ni want to bite him.